


A Mother's Eyes, a Mother's Heart

by Servena



Series: How to Save a Life [3]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homosexuality, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mother-Son Relationship, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 14:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17408354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servena/pseuds/Servena
Summary: In the end she can’t pinpoint the exact moment when she knows.





	A Mother's Eyes, a Mother's Heart

In the end she can’t pinpoint the exact moment when she knows. It’s a gradual realization, a knowledge that seeps in slowly and settles in her chest. It’s not obvious at all, they’re not doing anything inappropriate (as far as she knows), but a mother knows her son, and her son has never been one for casual touches. It’s probably a family thing, she herself has never been a touchy person and neither is his father, even though the children got their fair share of kisses and hugs when they were young. But this changed when they got older, and she hasn’t seen Eugene touch someone any more intimately than shaking hands in years.

So it doesn’t take her long to notice that he and Edward (Babe, she corrects herself) are touching all the time – no big gestures, but a hand on the shoulder here, a nudge in the right direction there, kicking at each other’s legs under the table, pressing their shoulders together when they sit next to each other.

And then everything starts to make sense to her. Eugene was never one to chase broads, and she was content with that – no chance for him to get a girl pregnant before her time. She had no doubt that he would find a girl to settle down with, and if it took him a while longer, if he found a job and moved out first, there was no harm in that.

But now she realizes that it wasn’t ever about women at all.

Before he went to war, this would have weighted heavy on her heart and her worries would have lost her sleep. It’s not easy for people like him, especially in this part of the States. She would have fretted about his future and worried about what his father might say when he found out.

But now she has already lost sleep worrying about him when he came back from war a shadow of his former self. She has watched him run around, barely eating and sleeping and instead working as much as possible to take his mind of the things he had seen. It has broken her heart to see him like this.

So she has been the first to notice the shift in his behavior on Babe’s arrival. He is still on edge and she knows he doesn’t sleep enough and works too much, but at least now he isn’t doing it alone. Babe and him are inseparable as they move from one task to the next, replacing parts of the drain pipes that have rusted through (Babe does indeed manage to fall down the ladder, though he doesn’t injure himself, earning him an exasperated look from her son), then turning towards cleaning the attic (she can hear Babe sneeze all the way down to the kitchen) and hunting escaped chickens whenever someone has left the gate open (they usually come back when it’s feeding time, but who is she to ruin their fun).

Whenever she tells Babe that he doesn’t have to do this, he just grins and replies that he’s got to earn his keep somehow. In the evenings she finds them on the back porch, drinking beer and sharing a cigarette. But most of all she sees her son talking and smiling and it fills her heart with joy.

If this is what he needs, who is she to try to take it away from him?

Her thoughts are interrupted as the kitchen door opens, and she almost lets go of the can of coffee that she has been holding onto for the last couple of minutes. When she looks up, her son is standing in the door way, feet bare and hair still messy from sleep, forehead stitched together in this worried look she has gotten used to. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

She sets the can of coffee down before there can be a mess. “No, it’s alright, I was just thinking.”

He doesn’t ask her what about, instead walking over to the pantry to take out a pan and some eggs. She has grown used to his unquestioning help in the kitchen by now, a thing she would have been ecstatic about when he was younger and now always fills her with worry in the knowledge that he can’t bear to sit down and do nothing, if even for a moment.

“Sleep well?” she asks as she sets up the water for the coffee.

He just hums at that, and a sideway glance at him confirms that the dark rings beneath his eyes have lightened up a bit.

“Your friend still asleep?” she asks as she starts moving cups and plates to the table.

He shakes his head. “He’s in the bathroom.”

She watches as he cracks a couple of eggs into the pan, and suddenly she can’t bear to keep quiet anymore. She sets the last cup down. “Eugene?”

He makes a noise of acknowledgement, and when she doesn’t say anything, he glances over. He looks so young like this, in just an old shirt and a pair of sweat pants and it pulls at her heart strings.

She swallows. “I’m glad that he makes you happy.”

Their eyes meet and she can pinpoint the exact moment when he understands the deeper meaning of her words, because his whole body freezes. His eyes widen, and then she closes the distance between them and draws him into a hug.

The last time she hugged him was the day he had come back, but back then he hadn’t really been there, returning the gesture mechanically while his mind was clearly elsewhere.

He’s rigid here at first, too, but then she hears him exhale slowly and she can feel the tension leave his body as he leans into her touch and draws her closer. He’s taller than her, has been for quite a while, but in this moment he’s just her boy that she wants to protect and keep safe, and she knows that he needed this too when his hands press into her back and he clings to her for a moment.

As they let go of each other, he turns away for a moment to wipe a hand over his eyes, and she herself has to clear her throat before she can find her voice again. “The eggs are getting a bit brown”, she says to give them both a chance to regain their composure.

He steps back to the stove as he gives her a small smile. “I’ll take care of it.”


End file.
